


Intuition (Something's Wrong)

by ViveLaRebellion



Series: Something's Wrong [1]
Category: Thomas Sanders, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Blood, Gen, Heart-to-Heart, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Injury, Self Loathing, Self-Harm, Social Anxiety, Unreliable Narrator, thomas is a good bean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-11-03 10:59:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10965846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ViveLaRebellion/pseuds/ViveLaRebellion
Summary: Anxiety is part of Thomas' mind. Of course Thomas knows when something's wrong. He just doesn't know what.





	1. Hiding

**Author's Note:**

> ok im making this the first part of a series surrounding my fic Relapse (I gotta). expect it to get dark and triggery, and if i missed anything please let me know!

_something's wrong._

Thomas could feel the pit in his gut grow deeper. He had been on edge all day and he couldn't pin down why. He wanted to chalk it up to his anxiety as usual, but this felt so different. His mind wasn't spinning with "what if's" and he didn't have the usual sense of hyper-awareness that usually came with his social anxiety. No, this was dread.

Something was very wrong. He could feel it. A lethargic fear had settled in his core and Thomas had no idea what to do with it. 

_ok, well, what would i normally do if it were my normal anxiety?_

It took Thomas a long moment to recall his usual coping methods, which, if he weren't already so unsettled, should've been a red flag. His brain was so sluggish. It was hard to care. That was even worse.

Thomas decided on turning on some old Steven Universe. Something he didn't have to focus too hard on but would still brighten his mood. The feeling lifted slightly as he settled into the plush cushions of his couch and started up an early episode. 

The respite only lasted an episode, though, before the dread came back. That horrible feeling that something was _fundamentally wrong_ _and i have no idea what why am i feeling like this this isn't right somethings wrong whats wrong whats wrong whats wrong with-_

Thomas' eyes widened before he even finished his spiral. He didn't care that breathing was coming slightly harder than it should've. He knew what was wrong.

"Anxiety!" Thomas summoned the side before he could give himself time to reconsider, and tried to ignore that his voice broke.

When Thomas looked over to the stairs he saw a very flustered Anxiety adjusting his jeans, as if he had just pulled them on. Thomas jumped up off the couch and closed the distance between the two of them before Anxiety could even look up. He grabbed Anxiety's shoulders and held him at arms length, Thomas' panicked eyes sweeping over the moody trait.

The physical contact brought Anxiety's attention fully to the present, and he instantly tried to writhe away from Thomas. Thomas let him go, but looked no less manic. Anxiety opened his mouth to voice his offence, but Thomas beat him to it.

"Is everything ok? Are you alright?" Thomas was shaking slightly. He couldn't shake the feeling that something terrible had happened and if that were a part of him it was his responsibility and he was letting Anxiety down and  _oh no Anxiety looks pissed I shouldn't have done this it's gonna get worse I've made everything worse-_

"Thomas! Hey! Ease up!" Anxiety had grabbed Thomas by the arm and shook him slightly, snapping him out of his spiral. "I'm fine, everything's ok. Quit spiraling, I don't need that right now." Anxiety looked tired, even more so than usual. His clothes were slightly disheveled, but he held himself calmly as he waited for Thomas to get himself together.

Thomas took a deep breath before he spoke again. "Something's-something's wrong, and I don't know what." A blush crept across his cheeks as he tried to articulate himself. He was never very good at this. "I just, I needed to know you were... ok. I guess." He sighed. He felt like an idiot.

When he looked back at Anxiety the trait was stock still, a look of... surprise? Shock? Fear? painted across his face. His stupor lasted only a moment, though, before he scoffed slightly, settling back into his aloof attitude. "Wow? Seriously? That's it? Jeez, I'm your anxiety, I'm supposed to make you worried about other stuff. You're not supposed to make yourself worried about me. You should be worrying about the fact that you still haven't paid the electric bill and that's due in a couple of days. Same goes for Netflix. You're too irresponsible to be living like this, Thomas."

Thomas frowned. Something was off. Anxiety leaned back entirely out of Thomas' space, averting his gaze as he scowled at nothing.  _he's lying to you, why would he lie to you? you're literally him._ Thomas' frown deepened as he weighed how to approach this before something clicked about what Anxiety had said.

"Anxiety, I can't make myself worried about things. That's literally what you do. Did... did you want me to worry about you..?" Thomas felt like an idiot, but as he spoke that pit of dread in his gut got heavier as he watched Anxiety freeze up.  _bingo._ "Anxiety do I need to be worried about you right now?" He watched Anxiety visibly shrink into his hoodie as the dread intensified. Thomas wanted to be sick.

He opened his mouth to speak again when Anxiety finally spoke, voice strong as he made direct eye contact with Thomas. "If you think I'm the one who needs to be worried about here you're a bigger idiot than I thought. Do you have any idea what the state of your life is right now? You're behind on a car payment, you haven't talked to Dodie sine you got back from your trip, so she probably thinks you don't care about her in the least. If you can't keep up basic communications with your friends you're going to lose them Thomas." Anxiety was snarling. He was angry. Anxiety was deflecting and Thomas knew it.

Thomas couldn't help but latch onto what Anxiety said, the taunts and warnings sticking in his brain as he started to reach for his phone, Dodie on his mind now. He opened his mouth to apologize when his eyes landed on Anxiety's hand as he flicked his fingers through his bangs. 

Red.

There was red smeared on Anxiety's hand. Thomas' eyes were glued to the splash of color before it disappeared back into the hoodie pocket. His brain stuttered to a stop. He didn't know how to process the fact that Anxiety was bloody and was adamantly hiding it from Thomas. He quickly tried to think of innocent excuses for the smear, but with the way Anxiety had been behaving Thomas could only come to one conclusion.

At the same time Thomas came to his realization, Anxiety's eyes widened, following Thomas' thoughts and gaze.

"Wait-!" Before Thomas could stop him, the dark trait retreated back into his mind, leaving Thomas standing dumbfounded in his stairwell, feeling worse than before. 

 

* * *

 

Thomas tried twice more to summon Anxiety back. He managed it once, but didn't get a word in edge-wise as Anxiety drowned him out with a barrage of worries, insults, and hypotheticals that left Thomas a mess. The second time he tried, Anxiety seemed to simply refuse. Thomas decided that it probably wasn't best to confront the trait on this after that. 


	2. Exposed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas catches Anxiety at a bad moment.

Anxiety stood uncertainly in his bathroom, fidgeting with the small razor between his fingers.

_Thomas looked worried ~~they hate you you hurt them you deserve it~~  _

~~~~It had only been a couple days since he first cut and Thomas had freaked out all over him.

_he looked scared ~~its your job to scare them youre a monster~~_

He hadn't even had time to see how he felt about it properly before he felt himself being summoned and had rushed to cover himself.

Now he stood in his bathroom holding the little razor he had conjured again. This time he would have better control. Last time had been a sudden, impulsive moment. He had been desperate, and Thomas had sensed it. Desperate for escape. Desperate to be respected. Desperate to be liked. Desperate to be happy. But he knew none of these were attainable. Thinking about them just made him realize how much he didn't deserve them, so he didn't think about them. 

Instead, Anxiety sat criss-cross-applesauce on the floor, sans jeans, and closed his eyes. He thought about his usual gripes and concerns, and then how much everyone hated him for it. He thought about how easy it would be for everyone if he weren't like this. He realized they would probably do this to him themselves if it meant he stopped being himself. He swallowed the rising bile in his throat and pressed the blade to his leg.

* * *

Thomas felt that pit of dread again, and wanted so badly to respond to it, but upon remembering the response last time, he held back. He was going to respect Anxiety's boundaries.

* * *

A whole week passed until Anxiety found himself holding that little razor again. 

They had gotten done with a video only an hour ago and, instead of going to bed, Thomas had decided to stay up and get started on the editing even though it was 2am. Anxiety was exhausted. Videos always left him exhausted. He hated being on display that long, posing and reading a script Thomas wrote with Princy when there was nothing he would rather do than curl up and sleep. He didn't know why he bothered participating sometimes, no one ever listened to him.

Now, despite his exhaustion, his mind was racing as Thomas edited. He could feel Thomas sifting through clips and angles and takes, and could practically hear Logic and Princy bickering in Thomas' subconscious. _its gonna be a shit video anyway i dont know why hes even bothering with editing_ Anxiety shook his head against the thought. It was things like that that made the others hate him. 

Settling on the floor again, Anxiety shimmied his sweatpants- he was exhausted of course he got changed -down and stared at the three healed lines on his thigh. The first had been the deepest, surprising him with the amount of blood. After that he'd been more cautious. He still had no idea what he was doing. All he knew for sure was that it grounded him in a weird, fucked up way. 

_No one wants to watch this. Who wants to watch a video about being homesick? Why be so pathetic when youre famous Thomas?_

Anxiety snarled at himself and brought the blade down against his skin, not breaking it yet, but enough to make his brain try to stop him. "Pathetic piece of shit."  _swipe_ "Nuisance" _swipe_ "Downer"  _swipe_  "Defeatist"  _swipe._ Anxiety wanted to be sick, but as he continued he felt lighter. He was being punished for being so terrible. He was made to make people feel bad, so he'd make himself feel the worst so he wouldn't take it out on anyone else. 

_Thomas is gonna be worried ~~he doesnt care~~_

~~~~Anxiety chewed his lip before adding another line to dispel thoughts of his host, but it only made his paranoia grow. _Thomas knew before he always knows youre a part of him ~~you idiot you complete moron~~_  Suddenly he felt himself being summoned and his heart lurched. Quickly, he tossed the blade away from him and started struggling with his sweats. He got them adjusted just in time to fully enter the material plane again.

Thomas was sitting at his desk, looking expectantly at Anxiety. Tired of having to act all day, Anxiety simply crossed his arms and raised an expectant eyebrow right back. After a twenty second stalemate, Anxiety caved.

"What do you want, Thomas? I was getting ready for bed." Anxiety sighed, gesturing to his clothes. He was practically naked, wearing only a thin black tee shirt and light grey sweatpants. He had even scrubbed off his makeup.  _at least im not on camera this time._

Thomas let out a suffering sigh and rested his head on his hand, leaning at a dangerous angle for one sitting in a rolly-chair. Anxiety felt the impulse to point that out when he felt his pulse in his cuts. He kept quiet.

"Anxiety, what's going on with you?" Thomas sounded as exhausted as Anxiety felt, and it turned his veins to ice.

Refusing to give in so easily, Anxiety dredged up a little more energy and put on his stage face. "Oh you know, teenage angst, existential dread, thinking of ways to dispose of Princy. The usual." He shrugged, slipping his sardonic smirk into place. 

Thomas just blinked at him, unimpressed, before pushing himself back to a normal sitting position. He rested his hands on his knees, looking like a disapproving school counselor. Anxiety quickly relayed Thomas' appearance back to him and he shifted to something a little less posed. "Look, Anxiety. I'm really trying to respect your privacy here, but you're really scaring me, buddy."

"Good, then I'm doing my job." Anxiety shrugged again, leaning back slightly.

Thomas shook his head. "No I mean scared for you, not of you." Anxiety opened his mouth to make an indignant comment but Thomas silenced him with a look before continuing. "Now, I've had a couple of rough days this week, and you've seemed pretty fine, or at least as fine as you get."

"So, what? You're worried cuz I've been ok?"

"No. I'm worried because right now after I've had a _good_ day I feel a little like I'm gonna die? And I only felt like this when I freaked out last week. And I'm asking you to please, please tell me what's going on with you?" Thomas was a tier away from begging, and Anxiety hated begging.

Anxiety felt himself fluff defensively. "Maybe its the fact you've been having such a good day, hmm? Sure, things are going well, but maybe they're going _too_ well. You know most of the time when things are going great, it means there's something terrible around the corner. Maybe I'm just keeping you on your toes so you don't get hurt later."

 Thomas groaned in frustration, picking nervously at his fingernails. Anxiety smiled inwardly.  _thatll distract him for a while_ Thomas spun once in his chair, obviously trying to expel the sudden anxious energy. "Ugh, maybe you're right! I shouldn't hav-"

 When he came back around his voice died in his throat and a hand slid over his mouth. Anxiety tightened his posture in response, feeling scrutinized. "Yes? Go on? You were telling me I'm right for once?"

 Thomas simply shook his head and waved Anxiety to come over to him. Confused, Anxiety inched over until he was standing next to Thomas, who looked suddenly very... sad. Anxiety wasn't a fan of sadness. It was messy and purposeless, as far as he was concerned. "Anxiety, why do you do this?"

He blinked at the vague question. "Cuz its my job? What do you mean?"

Thomas gave him a hard stare before grabbing Anxiety's leg. Right. On. The cuts. Anxiety's eyes widened and he pushed himself away from Thomas, feeling sick, eyes glued to the smear on Thomas' hand.  _i bled through the sweatpants hes been able to see the whole time_

"Are you gonna stop lying to me now?" Thomas sounded frustrated and tired and _of course he is youve been lying to his face and hes known ~~youre a liar a liar a dirty liar he hates you~~_

Thomas seemed able to sense Anxiety freaking out, so he raised his hands in surrender. "I'm not mad about it Anxiety. I'm not mad at you and I don't hate you, alright? I don't think I'm capable of hating any of you at this point. But you have to talk to me! You need to be honest with me, cuz if something's wrong with you, then something's wrong with me, and vis-versa. Ok?" 

Anxiety tugged at the hem of his shirt, really wishing he were wearing his hoodie. "I don't... really know what you want me say right now."

Thomas leaned back in his chair, scrubbing his hand off on his shirt. "Why don't we start with an honest reason why you're doing this? We might be able to fix it."

Anxiety involuntarily bristled. He was so tired. "Thomas, I'm not gonna play therapy with you. We just had a whole day of heart-to-heart, remember?"

"Yes, but that was mostly scripted and rehearsed heart-to-heart. I'm asking for something a little more candid, here."

Anxiety groaned, coming close enough to lean his hip on the desk, his hand hovering defensively over the blood stain. He chewed his lip as he tried to build up the nerve to speak.  _yeh sorry thomas i just feel like all of you hate me and youre all better off if im not myself_

"I..." Wow this was difficult he hated talking about real shit. "Its just... you all do nothing but complain whenever I try to contribute. But its really hard not to contribute. And this helps me.... not... do that." ~~ _stupid stupid stupid needy little piece of shit shut up no one wants to hear it_~~ Anxiety pushed his hands in his pockets and straightened his posture, looking anywhere but at Thomas. "So yeh, there you go. An honest reason. Or whatever"  ~~ _needyneedyneedyneedy_~~

Thomas was quiet for a moment as Anxiety continued to avoid looking at him. He heard Thomas shift and glanced at him out of the corner of his eye to see the host roll his chair closer. 

Thomas uncertainly chewed his lip, trying to piece together something that wouldn't come off as fake or meaningless to the hurt persona. Anxiety was sensitive, though he'd never admit it to the others or even himself, and also preferred solutions, even if he was often the only one pointing out there was a problem at all. "How... how could we help?"

"Don't. Just leave me alone I don't need your help." Anxiety snarled defensively. 

Thomas backpedaled quickly. "No no no, I mean. We've been too dismissive of you-"

"Understatement."

"- _So_ , if I ask the others to let up a bit in being so critical, would that... help?"

Anxiety leaned back and considered it.  _itd be nice to not constantly be attacked just for existing ~~your ideas are bad youre bad they shouldnt have to put up with you~~_ Anxiety shook his head. "The others would catch on that something's up, and then I'd just get harassed for that instead."

Thomas' face fell. "Ok, well, maybe-"

"No, Thomas." Anxiety cut him off. "I don't want help. I don't need special treatment or coddling. I need you guys to lay off. That's it, ok?"

Thomas sighed. "You got it, big guy."

Anxiety rolled his eyes. "Greaaat, can I go now?"

"One more thing first!" Before Anxiety could react, Thomas was hopping up out of his chair and had thrown his arms around him. Anxiety immediately stiffened in surprise, but relented slightly, putting an arm around Thomas' shoulders for a moment before breaking the hug. "Ok, that's everything, you can go!"

"Thank you." The words sounded bitter, but he meant them as he sank out.

 


End file.
